


This Angel of Mine

by NotTotallyReal



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Crowley has problems, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Ineffective Comfort, Internal Monologue, Love Confessions, Other, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, but Aziraphale tries to help, don't we all, i'm so bad at tags sorry, its pretty dark guys, serious angst, starts on the bus ride to Crowley's flat, trigger warning for a lot of general self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26288704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotTotallyReal/pseuds/NotTotallyReal
Summary: On the bus ride to Crowley's flat, Crowley decides he's going to confess his love to Aziraphale. And then Aziraphale will....Crowley doesn't want to think about it.Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, but will Crowley's personal demons get in the way?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 67





	This Angel of Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm not sure my tagging is super accurate, but basically Crowley has a lot of problems with his self-worth, and this leads him to self-destructive behaviors. Let me know in the comments if I should add more tags!
> 
> Words in italics are Crowley's thoughts. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

_I never wanted to be evil. I just couldn’t be that damn perfect._

This heart of Crowley’s has never done what it’s supposed to. Falling in love with an Angel, to start. Then the whole beats-twice-as-fast-when-said-angel-is-in-the-vicinity. Really, Crowley has a solid list of complaints about it, something he actually wrote down once (while extremely drunk, naturally.)

Currently, it is not listening to Crowley. He’s on the bus with Aziraphale and it’s beating at the approximate consistency of a ragtime piece being played by a pianist with a seizure. Crowley is trying to make it bloody stop, but with Aziraphale’s hand in his _Aziraphale touching him_ Crowley can not focus enough to stop his traitorous heart. Aziraphale can surely hear it, beating and then stopping and then going twice as fast. Just like Crowley’s thoughts. 

_Angel, angel. My angel. No, he is not yours. You do not deserve him._

Crowley closes his eyes.

_I can not, I can not have him. He is not mine, never mine._

Crowley is a demon. Aziraphale is an angel.

_I saw him on the Wall of Eden, and I’ve never wanted him out of my sight again. I didn’t know it was love then, but the feeling was familiar. Some remnant of being an Angel, I thought. When you Fall, it takes your memories but leaves the feelings. Those feelings come to me, at night, alone in the dark. Feelings of warmth, of belonging, of being cherished. But I don’t have the memories to comfort myself. I only have little bits and pieces, just enough to make me want it. It’s a rather impressive punishment, but it sounds more like something my lot would do instead of Heaven._

_My angel told me about Heaven, but it didn’t sound too good. I think he’s Heaven. Not that cold, empty place filled with reflective surfaces so you can see every little thing that’s wrong._

_I look the best reflected in Aziraphale’s eyes._

Aziraphale stares off into space or fixates on the weave of the bus seat in front of them. Crowley turns to look at him, but when Aziraphale looks back out of the corner of his eye, Crowley whips his head back and stares out the window for the rest of the ride. They both ignore the fact that they are holding hands. It’s far too soon and much too late for any acknowledgment.

_I want to touch something soft, something warm. I surround myself with icy stones because I’ve been waiting for you. Darkness and roughness, that’s me. But you...you are everything but._

_I want to taste something that isn’t blood. I want to smell something besides sulfur._

_I want you, Aziraphale._

_Shut the fuck up, Crowley._

Crowley is fidgety on the walk from the bus stop to his flat. All of a sudden, his body doesn't feel like his anymore. His limbs don’t stay where they are supposed to, everything is too long, and he can’t even saunter properly. His ankles keep failing him, breaking down under the strain of Crowley’s forced casualness. He starts to scratch his arms a bit, rolling up the sleeve to get at the underside, and then rolling the sleeve back down to hide it.

_I’ve been doing this so long, it's reflexive. I remember when I started doing it, I remember through the mist of 6,000 years. A little scratch, a red line, a burst of pain. In a few days, it's gone. I can’t leave any evidence of being weak. Satan knows what they’d do to me._

_That was when I still wanted to be a good demon, so I tempted Eve and sowed distrust amongst her sons. But I didn’t want anyone to die. When I saw Abel fall, lifeless, on the burning sand, I saw red. I didn’t realize right away it was my blood from where I had slit my skin. I didn’t want him to die! I wanted them to be mildly miserable, like I was. I did it because I caused death. And then I released my claws and drew dripping lines everywhere I could reach because I was sorry a worthless human was dead._

_It, like practically everything, soon became about Aziraphale. I would scratch myself when I would purposely seek him out, even for just conversation. When I would tempt him, to just enjoy something he already would have, but I tempted him so he wouldn’t feel too bad about it. When I would suddenly be irrationally concerned about my robes, anxiously examining them, to see if the red embroidery suitably brought out the flames of my hair._

_But then, about five thousand years in, it changed. I realized I loved him, loved him as much as my crooked heart would allow. I started scratching when I did something to hurt him instead, when I did something that made his lips tremble instead of curving into a smile for me._

_When I leaned over to kiss him, drunk out of my occult mind, it felt like succumbing to a temptation. At least, what succumbing to temptations had looked like on my multitudes of victims. And when he pushed me away and left, I wanted to flay myself. I wanted to shred my skin, to get out the parts of me that wanted to hurt him. And the ones that wanted to love him. And the ones that wanted him to love me back._

_I wasn’t good enough to be an angel. I’m not good enough to love an Angel. And I certainly did not get to kiss one._

_But that was many years ago. So much has happened._

_Now...I don’t know._

When they get to Crowley’s flat, his knees give out. _Treacherous body of mine, why won’t you do what I tell you any more?_ He had turned back to Aziraphale, intent on giving him a tour or more likely, downing all the alcohol he had. But Aziraphale was there, in his living room. _Aziraphale was in his living room._

__

“Erm, sorry Angel, I’ve got to go to the loo for a second. Just uh, make yourself at home, eh?” Crowley turned, threw his hand out in a gesture that undoubtedly meant something to him and absolutely no one else, and stalked to the back of his flat. 

__

Down the dark and dimly lit hallway, there is a bathroom. The walls are a dark stone that gives the feeling of being in a particularly well-kept cave. A long, wide mirror hangs behind a black marble sink basin unnaturally held up by a thin gold bar, entwined with gold snakes. Ten feet away is an absolutely ridiculously ornate Jacuzzi bathtub. 

__

Crowley strides to the mirror. He stares down at his hands, white-knuckled on the edges of the sink, then back up at his reflection. 

__

_What am I going to do?_

__

_I feel so empty, like I’m just some snakeskin over cold bones. I’m hollow inside, I’ve been hollow since I Fell. It took something out of me, and I don’t know what it was._

__

_I want to be solid, real, not just barely there. I’m so fucking lonely in those moments before I fall asleep. When I’m curled up around my body pillow, trying to fit with it like a puzzle piece, when I know the being I would fit with is far away. Angel, angel. I breathe in the smell of these perfect black satin sheets and it’s nothing I want. I can fool myself, a little, if I’ve been napping and I haven’t seen you in a while. But when I come back to you (I’ll always come back to you, always) I know as soon as I smell you how dull and cold my bed is. Damn these snake senses, damn the way I can smell you from a hundred feet away. You smell so good, Angel. I wish my bed smelled like you; I’d never leave it._

__

_Do this, you fucking idiot. Look him in the eye and say you love him. And then, maybe you’ll get a little bit of him, a little bit of heaven in return._

__

_Yes, I’m going to do it._

__

Crowley had thought about how he might confess his love on the ride over. Crowley would tell him he loves him _demons don’t deserve to love, look at you, not even a normal demon, what a freak_ and Aziraphale would-Crowley doesn't want to think about it. 

__

One last rejection and Crowley is done. Finished. Finito. There are lots of things to live for, but they aren’t worth anything with Aziraphale gone, Aziraphale hating him, Aziraphale pitying him. Crowley will rip his heart out for Aziraphale _he’s had practice_ and if Aziraphale says no, looks at him and sees all his nothingness, then Crowley will stumble into the nearest church and drink Holy Water and finally become nothing. 

__

Crowley walks back, slowly, each step one step closer to an uncertain outcome. He picks up speed, though, when he sees Aziraphale. _I want to run to you, Angel._

__

_Don’t go too fast._

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Crowley takes a deep breath, knocks down half a bottle of metaphorical bourbon, and takes Aziraphale’s hand. _No, you idiot, you aren’t equals. GET DOWN._

__

He falls to his knees. 

__

“Crowley?”

__

Kneeling _sacrilegious, you can’t pray, She isn’t listening_ on the cold cement floor, Crowley finds his voice. He looks up. _Oh, angel. Let me worship you. Let me stay here at your feet always._

__

All those words on the bus and Crowley doesn't know where to start. 

__

_I’m the Serpent of Eden. I brought on the downfall of humanity with my voice, but when I’m with you, nothing sounds good enough._

__

“Angel,” he whispers. 

__

Aziraphale smiles, just a little bit, but his eyes are shining and twinkling like Crowley’s favorite stars. 

__

“Angel,” he begins again. _Why not be direct? I’m tired of hiding what I feel._

__

“Angel, I love you.” His voice breaks. It feels wrong on his tongue, but so does everything else. 

__

Crowley covers Aziraphale’s hand with burnt kisses. He takes off his sunglasses and holds them, crushing them, in his fist. He slowly raises his head, ready for a slap or a door in his face. But it’s just Aziraphale, crying a little too. 

__

_Can you hear my heart growing three sizes from finally saying that aloud, Angel? Can you see what’s left of my ragged soul in my eyes? It’s all yours, Angel. All of me._

__

“Aziraphale,” Crowley takes a deep breath, tears escaping down his cheeks, “I just-I want to be loved. I just want to be loved. Love me, please. Say you love me, I know I don’t deserve it. Lie to me, please, say you love me, just once.”

__

Aziraphale drops down to the floor and pulls his mess of a demon into his arms. 

__

“Shh, my dear. Shh, shh, love. It’s all right, dear. Shh, my dearest boy.”

__

Crowley pulls away, but he can’t bear to relinquish his hold on Aziraphale, so he’s clinging to his arms. 

__

“Angel,” Crowley begs like it’s the only word he knows, “Angel, angel.”

__

_Say it, Angel. Please say it. For someone’s sake. For my sake. Please._

__

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says softly. “I love you.” He puts their foreheads together and whispers “I love you, I love you, can’t you see? Don’t you know? Forgive me, my love, for not telling you before.”

__

Crowley cries harder, curling in on himself. But Aziraphale unfolds him, holds him in his arms, and kisses his hair. _Miraculous._

__

_It burns when you touch me, Angel. It burns like Falling, but it's good, so good because you are there to catch me. I would Fall again for you. I would Fall a hundred times so you wouldn’t have to._

__

Crowley reluctantly pulls away. 

__

“Wait, wait! Angel, but-Falling?” Crowley mumbled. _Maybe if Aziraphale didn’t hear him, he could say he tried, and then they could go back to kissing for as long as this lasts._

__

_What a stupid idea; you couldn’t hurt Aziraphale if you tried. Big evil demon you are, sure._

__

“Oh, love. I don’t think I’m going to Fall. And even if I did, it would be worth it.” Aziraphale pulls Crowley closer to him, “It would be worth it.”

__

“No, Angel! You don’t know what it’s like! You-you can’t. I’m not worth it. I’m not worth that.”

__

“Crowley, my dear. Does this feel evil to you? Does it feel like a sin, to be in my arms?”

__

_It feels like a blessing._

__

Crowley doesn't realize he said it out loud until Aziraphale’s eyes fill with tears. 

__

Aziraphale smiles sadly. Crowley hides his face in Aziraphale’s neck. 

__

“I know, love. I know.”

__

_Look at you. An angel says he loves you, why aren’t you doing anything about it? Crying on his shirt isn’t going to make him want to stay. He’ll see that you aren’t worth it, you know. One day he will wake up and realize that you haven’t been worth it all. Sure, maybe you’re good for a nice fuck but who could love something like you? Broken and jagged, all sharp edges and rough words. No, he’ll come to his senses. You’ll do something wrong like you always do, you’ll cut him with your clawed words or you’ll scare him with those eyes. You’ll try to fix it, to go back to the way it was but it won’t work. He’ll see you begging on the floor, and he’ll sneer in disgust. Who do you think you are, to defile an Angel? Maybe you are a good demon after all, hurting the one being who ever looked at you with something like kindness in his eyes. He’ll love you and then he’ll leave you. That’s the best you can possibly hope for. A little bit of happiness before you ruin it._

__

_A little bit of happiness._

__

_I want that little bit of happiness. I want it so fucking bad._

__

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asks, muffled since he’s speaking into Crowley’s hair. “Um, earlier. You said some things, Crowley, things that I’m worried about.”

__

“Hmm? What things?”

__

“Well, about how you don’t deserve this and that you aren’t worth it.”

__

“Oh.”

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“Crowley?”

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“Yep?”

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“Is that how you feel?”

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“Nope.”

__

“Crowley.”

__

“Yeah?”

__

“You can tell me, you know. I’m, I’m here for you. I love you, dearest. Please, talk to me.”

__

_Don’t talk to him. Why in the world would you say those things? Stupid, useless, piece of fucking nothing you are. What were you thinking? Look, you ruined something good. Again. Why couldn’t you lie, hide that part?_

__

“Crowley, I just want to help you. You shouldn’t feel like this, my dear. All those things, they’re lies.” Aziraphale’s eyes start to fill with tears again. “Please, love. Let me help you. Who’s been saying that to you?”

__

“I have,” Crowley says without thinking, and then he rips his hands away from Aziraphale to cover his mouth. _Take it back, I take it back! Stupid, stupid! What is wrong with me?!_

__

Aziraphale looks so lost, so broken _and it’s all because of you. You did that._

__

_You did that to him. How dare you make him cry? Why would you tell him those things? Why would you hurt him? You are worse than you thought, and you don’t deserve his help._

__

_Are you getting addicted to the truth? Did it taste good in your mouth? It’s souring now, or it better be._

__

“No, Angel! I didn’t mean that! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s a lie, I lied!” Crowley backs away from Aziraphale _maybe if I’m far enough away he won’t see the truth in my eyes._

__

“Wait, Crowley! Wait! Come back!” Aziraphale surges forward to catch Crowley. He manages to grab him, but he doesn't have enough balance and falls back to the floor, taking Crowley with him. 

__

“Please, Crowley, talk to me. I need you to talk to me.”

__

_Don’t say another word, you stupid fucking creature. All you’re going to do is hurt him more._

__

Crowley closes his eyes. 

__

“Crowley,” Aziraphale pleads, voice breaking, almost starting to cry. 

__

That’s what does it for Crowley. _Maybe it will hurt him more if I don’t talk to him, maybe saying it will help him. Maybe you are a piece of shit. Maybe he’ll listen and stay. Maybe you’ll push him away forever. Maybe he’ll still love me._

__

“Angel, Aziraphale, I just want to be enough. I want to be enough for you, let me be enough for you.”

__

“Oh, Crowley. You already are enough, can’t you see it?” Crowley doesn't answer, just looks up at Aziraphale. “Besides, I’m not perfect. You don’t have to try and be enough. Being yourself, being Crowley, my Crowley, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

__

“No, Angel, you are perfect. Perfect to me, perfect for me. Just please, let me be perfect for you.”

__

“Crowley, I’ll tell you a thousand times until you believe it, you already are, my love.”

__

_He’s lying. But it doesn't matter. Take what you get, and give everything you have. Maybe someday, if you are absolutely perfect, maybe it won’t be a lie anymore. But don’t let yourself believe it. Pretty lies, pretty as his eyes. Eat them up, drink them down, it’s all you are going to get for millennia of loving. You don’t even really deserve it, but for some reason, he thinks you do. Don’t disappoint him._

__

_And stop blubbering like the useless piece of nothing, piece of absolutely nothing-but-nothing that you are. Can’t you act happy? ___

____

__

____

“Angel, angel. Keep telling it to me, maybe one day I’ll believe it.” Crowley begs. Aziraphale pulls him impossibly closer. 

____

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_This is better than I ever dreamed._

____

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____

_I can’t get enough of this. I was addicted to him before, now how can I go a second without touching him? I want to lay him down and cover every inch with kisses and bites, so everyone knows that he’s mine, that I was here. I want to watch him eat, but now I want to interrupt him with kisses and see if he tastes like the food or just Angel. I want him to hold me down and say those things again, keep me from running away, or saying “I know” when I mean “I’m not.” I want him to tell me he loves me, all of me, with a hand against my throat so I can feel my pulse and know I’m really there. I want him to take me apart and put me back together into something better._

____

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“Crowley?” Aziraphale whispers. 

____

__

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Crowley breathes in, breathes out, and slowly disentangles himself. 

____

__

____

“Yeah?”

____

__

____

“Umm, are you, are you ok? Better?”

____

__

____

_Bury your emotions. You know how. Take all of this: the self-hate, the fear, the insecurity, the urge to cry, the way you want to rip through your skin to see if there is anything worth saving underneath. Now hold that in your hand, and crush it. Crush it until it is the barest speck, just a single atom. And then bury that, deep, deep down in you. Bury it so far down that when Aziraphale searches your eyes, he can’t see it. Bury it in the lake of your unshed tears mixed with Holy Water, things that burn the same. It’s filled with your stained white robes and your scorched white feathers. Bury it with all times you weren’t enough and Aziraphale got hurt. Bury it deep down inside, and then look up and smile._

____

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____

“Of course, Angel. I just got a bit carried away. I’m fine really, totally fine.”

____

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_Lie to your angel. Corrupt the one good relationship in your life. It’s the only way to keep it._

____

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_You don’t deserve this. But you didn’t deserve anything else that angel ever gave to you. You didn’t deserve the smile you could hear in his voice when you saved him from the Bastille. You didn’t deserve to stare at him while he ate, with all those impure thoughts in your head. You don’t deserve it when he says your name like just saying it makes him happy._

____

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_You aren’t going to deserve it when he wakes you up with a gentle kiss on the forehead or holds hands with you in St. James Park. You aren't going to deserve it when he touches you with slightly shaking hands, touches you like you are something he didn’t want to break beneath his heel. You didn’t deserve it, you don’t deserve it, and you won’t deserve it. But he gave it to you and he’ll keep giving it to you because he’s an Angel and he has chosen you to give his love, his grace, his mercy to. And you’ll take it all, take it like the greedy, selfish demon you are. You’re never satisfied, are you? Always one more smile, one more laugh, one more day. So you’ll take everything he gives to you, and you’ll take it like you always have, with a hint of a smile on your face and your own claws sinking deeper into your heart._

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_Because you don’t deserve it._

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**Author's Note:**

> Please comment if you liked it! Or if you didn't! Or if you're like me and long for human interaction!
> 
> Also, let me know if I need to add more tags. Thank you for reading!


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